BRIDGET WHELAN writer

for writers and readers….

The Guilty Pleasure of Unread Books

I read somewhere that around 30% of the books on the shelves of most keen readers are unread and will probably remain unread. I definitely fit into that category. It’s not greed or a desire to show off. Well, perhaps it is a tiny bit of both, but it is also a form of insurance I can call upon when needed. It is the comfort of knowing I am only a couple of metres away from a gorgeous accessible affluence of words.

I hope one day I will be in the mood for George Gissing’s The Nether World, the 1889 ‘fast-moving story of highly dramatic, sometimes violent, scenes depicting the life of…slum-dwellers in Clerkenwell’. Some day I might want to explore A Writer’s Britain with Margaret Drabble and if I ever have the urge to hide the water rings left on an old table Practical Decoupage is waiting for me.

There is a word for it in Japanese, tsundoku. (I found out how to pronounce it here. I wonder if I can remember long enough to wrangle it into a conversation.)

What’s on your unread pile? The classics, like Robert Service in the poem below? Self Help books you are not yet sufficiently motivated to open? A cuckoo of novel that seems to have appeared on your book shelf from nowhere?

BOOK LOVER

By Robert Service
I keep collecting books I know 
I’ll never, never read; 
My wife and daughter tell me so, 
And yet I never heed. 
“Please make me,” says some wistful tome, 
“A wee bit of yourself.” 
And so I take my treasure home, 
And tuck it in a shelf. 

And now my very shelves complain; 
They jam and over-spill. 
They say: “Why don’t you ease our strain?” 
“Some day,” I say, “I will.” 
So book by book they plead and sigh; 
I pick and dip and scan; 
Then put them back, distressed that I 
Am such a busy man. 

Now, there’s my Boswell and my Sterne, 
my Gibbon and Defoe; 
To savor Swift I’ll never learn, 
Montaigne I may not know. 
On Bacon I will never sup, 
For Shakespeare I’ve no time; 
Because I’m busy making up 
These jingly bits of rhyme. 

Chekov is caviar to me, 
While Stendhal makes me snore; 
Poor Proust is not my cup of tea, 
And Balzac is a bore. 
I have their books, I love their names, 
And yet alas! they head, 
With Lawrence, Joyce and Henry James, 
My Roster of Unread. 

I think it would be very well 
If I commit a crime, 
And get put in a prison cell 
And not allowed to rhyme; 
Yet given all these worthy books 
According to my need, 
I now caress with loving looks, 
But never, never read.

2 comments on “The Guilty Pleasure of Unread Books

  1. beth
    March 8, 2026
    beth's avatar

    I love being surrounded by my stacks of books, yet to read. they give me comfort in knowing they are there and ready when I am and no rush to get to them

    Like

  2. sarahtobias
    March 8, 2026
    sarahtobias's avatar

    I do hope you get to read George Gissing’s The Nether World, Bridget. It’s brilliant. One of my Novel as Social History course books a while ago. Gissing’s other books are also worth a read. I’m always recommending The Odd Women.

    Re unread books. I think I may have more than 30%! Some of my wonderful history books are partly read. Bought when teaching a particular era, then………

    S

    Like

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This entry was posted on March 8, 2026 by in My Books and tagged , , , , .

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